Helena Beat
by Sunshynesflower
Summary: Both America and England end up being early for a World Meeting and decide to head to the meeting room together. While riding an elevator to the top floor, the elevator shaft has a malfunction causing the two to be stuck in it together till someone comes to their rescue. America has an infatuation and wants to get some things clear with England. Lemon. Yaoi. Descriptive smut.


**A/N: Hey, it's Sunny here! Here's my first smut fanfic that I've ever written and posted, also it's USUK so that's a plus. This originally was supposed to be a one-shot, but I decided to split it up into parts just 'cause, probably just two parts though. This is part one of course. I will post the next part sometime this weekend or next week. One last thing, the title of this fanfic has nothing to do with the plot. I just like the name of it and I didn't know anything else that'd be interesting to call this. Don't blame me. Also I'd like to say thank you to my editor, callmenagi, on tumblr for the help she's given me. Hope you guys enjoy!**

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"Will you ever shut up, America?!" England yelled at the younger nation. He was growing ever so furious and frustrated. America was talking for what seemed like hours on end about how he killed tons of zombies in a video game that England really didn't care about. Today a World Meeting was being held and it so happened that England met America in the lobby. They were both super early for the meeting, which was surprising considering that the loud nation was usually late. So America decided that they should go to the meeting room together on the tenth floor of the business building. England wasn't too thrilled with the idea of being with the childish American while waiting for the other nations to come, but he had no choice because America obviously planned on staying with him the whole time.

America pouted childishly, "Someone's in a grumpy mood like always. You're turning out to be an old man, England. Lighten up." England glared at him, tempted to strangle him but he fought the urge to do so though he wanted to. 'Annoying brat. He doesn't appreciate everything I've given him and he's never even said thank you,' the older nation thought bitterly. He tried to calm his nerves down a bit. "Well at least I'm not a childish, fat idiot who eats too many calories and might die from a heart attack. No make that actually die from a heart attack if you continue to eat the way you do," he threw back in America's face with a smirk.

America pretended to be offended and hurt, "That's mean and totally not true! Heroes can't die. So I can't die because I'm the hero!" He gave a big grin, his white teeth showing and thrusted a thumb at himself, adding effect to the last part. The fact that America's teeth were white and neatly brushed surprised England. He expected yellow, rotting teeth from all the junk food he's been eating. He left those thoughts behind and sneered at the American, "I think that everyone would be happy if you died. Then maybe it would be a lot more peaceful around here."

America just laughed and patted England on the back a little too harshly which caused the Brit to gasp and cough at the pressure on his back. He gritted his teeth, "Control you strength idiot. You could of crushed me." It was true. The super nation was pretty powerful. Even as a small child, he swung a buffalo around in the air like it was nothing. Sweat fell down his forehead at that memory. 'He is really strong even as a child.'

"That just means that you're growing weak, England. I told you, you're becoming old," America said, his grin growing, enjoying the fact that he could get on England's nerves so easily. Aside from eating hamburgers, watching scary movies, and playing video games, it was one of his favorite activities. England's head snapped up at him, giving the American a death glare. Oh so that's how he wants to play. He smirked.

"At least I don't weigh twenty million pounds." He knew that wasn't true but he hoped that the exaggeration would hurt the stubborn nation.

America huffed and crossed his arms. "At least I'm not boring and old mannish like you."

"Well at least my food doesn't make me fat and is completely empty of nutrients!"

"At least my food doesn't taste like death and I don't burn everything that I cook!"

"Oi! My cooking is fine and my food is delicious! And you don't even cook, idiot!"

"More like death from England's disgusting cooking and I do cook... Sometimes."

"You ate my cooking when you were my colony!"

"Well yeah. I'm lucky that I even survived from your horrid cooking as a child."

"Shut up, idiot! Well at least everyone doesn't want me dead!" England yelled back, his face bright red in anger. America then shut his mouth and his lips formed into a fine line. England stared at the American's face feeling accomplished; he finally got the younger nation to shut his mouth for once.

He smirked, "What's wrong America? Can't think of anything to throw back at me?" America just stared at him with all of his energy and spark left behind. England felt smug and he laughed at him as the elevator doors open, "You don't even know what to say."

America just walked into the elevator shaft and England watched him. He mumbled, "Are you getting in the elevator or do you wanna go up the stairs?" England's eye twitched at the dull voice America used. He pushed the curiosity off his shoulder and joined him into the shaft. He ended up leaning against the back wall and stared at America's back as he pressed the tenth floor button. 'He's probably going to pull a prank on me. I just know it. He always does,' England thought coldly.

* * *

America leaned against the wall, staring at the elevator doors as the elevator shaft escalated to the tenth floor, but he was secretly watching England from the corner of his eye. His chest felt hollow and he was hurt. The elder's words hurt him. 'I think that everyone would be happy if you died. Then maybe it would be a lot more peaceful around here,' England's voice rang over and over in his head. He knew that he was one of the least liked nations but he didn't need those kind of cruel words. The Brit didn't even talk to him again after the doors shut.

Suddenly the lights flickered and the elevator rose a little before it sunk down a bit until it came to a halt. The gears creaked loudly and all of the energy melted away. England's eyes widen, "What the hell is going on?" He quickly walked over to the elevator buttons and pressed them so many times, his fingers started to hurt. He slammed his fist against the wall in front of him in frustration. "Dammit! I think this damn thing is jammed or broken!" England grumbled, mostly to himself though. Meanwhile America was mentally freaking out. His skin ran cold. 'What if this is just like that scary movie I watched last week? A monster is going to attack us and kill us and eat us and just kill us!' He thought frantically; not even noticing England's eyes glaring at him.

"America, we're going to be in here for awhile I guess, so stop panicking," he murmured, noticing the fear in the other's eyes. As soon as England spoke, it pulled the American out of his thoughts. His attention was now on England, completely forgetting his hurt feelings. He opened his mouth to cry out nervously, "But this is exactly what happened in a scary movie I watched like a week ago! Two best friends went into an elevator like this one and it got jammed then this monster attacked them from the ceiling and slaughtered them; eating their guts and ripping their head off with its huge, sharp teeth!" He shivered again and took in deep, raspy breathes. England sighed, resting a hand against his forehead and shook his head. "America I don't even understand why you watch scary movies all the time but this is ridiculous. Nothing is going to happen," he assured, "Also that's very disturbing and disgusting."

America pointed his finger at England, "That's exactly what one of the friends said in the movie." Okay now England really wanted to strangle him. His anger getting to him again, he sneered, "That doesn't even make sense and we are not best friends."

Those hurt feelings came back again and America frowned. Why did England have to hate him? It wasn't fair, what with these confusing feelings he had for the Brit. He knew that they argued a lot but this just hurt. He knew England hated him after the whole revolutionary war thing but he really wasn't sure if that was the case or not. Maybe he should ask England himself but what if he said that it was true? Or get mad at America for asking that? America's frown grew as he started to think harder about what he should do while England searched through his pockets for his cellphone.

After a few seconds, he gave up when it was nowhere to be found. 'I probably left it in the car or at the hotel.' He crossed his arms and closed his eyes, trying to think of some way to get out of there as soon as possible. Meanwhile, America furrowed his brows as his brain went through all of the scenarios of what would happen if he asked and tried to come to a decision. England sighed heavily from not getting any ideas and America glanced up at him. It was worth a try.

Before England knew it, he was pinned against the wall. His eyes snapped open, staring up into sky blue eyes. His cheeks flushed slightly as he realized that America had pinned him against the wall with both of his arms on either side of his head.

"What are-" he started to ask but got interrupted by America, "Do you really hate me that much, England?" England glared at him in disbelief. His cheeks changed a different shade of red within seconds and he turned his head away in embarrassment. 'Why would he ask that..?' England wondered.

"N-no. I never s-said that I hate y-you," he stuttered and his face deepened in color as America leaned his face in closer, his warm breathe hitting the Brit's ear. He shivered slightly and sucked in his breathe. "Do you really want me dead then?" the American asked in a whisper which caused England to shiver again. "N-no... I only said that because I was angry..." he replied back in a whisper. That relieved America; he didn't want his former caretaker to hate him. Why wouldn't England look at him then?

"Hey, England... Do you like France?" he asked in a low voice. That made England's head snap back up to glare at America and raised his voice, "Why the bloody hell would I-" He started to yell but was interrupted this time by America's lips pressed against his own.

England's eyes widened and stayed open. Many thoughts ran through his mind. What was happening? Why was he being kissed? 'This doesn't even make any sense...' Before he knew it, America pulled away and looked down into those forest green eyes with his own sky blue ones. England's face flushed at the face America was giving him; very serious and almost adult like with a hint of a blush across his cheeks. He gulped. When has he ever been so serious before?

'I don't think ever,' England thought, but if he ever was then the Brit couldn't remember.

Suddenly America bursted out laughing with his big grin back, pulling England out of his thoughts. "That's good 'cause if then, your face wouldn't be so red after our kiss!" the younger nation exclaimed, laughing even harder at the face England was making.

"What?! My face is not-" he started, but was interrupted yet again by America, "Is too! Your face almost looks like one of Spain's tomatoes."

His grin never left but just grew bigger. England's heart started to pound louder and faster. "Wh-what...?! N-no, it's not! You j-just surprised me and-and," he yelled back which caused America to laugh again, "Yeah right! You can't trick me! You liked it!"

England was about to reply but was interrupted by America pressing his lips against his once again. England's eyes widened, not expecting another kiss. He thought that the previous one was a joke; a way to insult him afterward but this was different, unless the other nation wanted to tease him about it again. It was an innocent and soft press of lips, a gesture of affection. Taking a brave step America started to move his lips against England's, molding them together naturally. He wasn't sure if he'd be pushed away and yelled at by the tsundere male, as Japan had described the meaning of to the American a while back.

Slowly kissing back, England let his eyes close and released the heavy breathe he was holding in. His lower lip was soon captured gingerly between the other's teeth, receiving a whimper from the shorter male as his lip was pulled gently and captured again then nibbled on. America was asking him for permission to enter his mouth but England still wasn't sure if this was some kind of joke so he refused.

This made the younger nation pout into the kiss so he tried something sneaky. Lifting his knee up, America rubbed it against England's slightly hardened groin. Earning a gasp, America took this as an advantage and slid his tongue into the Brit's open mouth. He tasted surprisingly sweet and that made America's mouth water more. As his tongue brushed against England's, exploring the unfamiliar territory, the latter let out a soft moan. These little noises aroused America even more.

They soon separated taking a moment to breath and to recover from the lack of oxygen, inhaling each other's scent. England slowly opened his eyes half way to see the panting America looking down at him, a thin line of saliva connected to their tongues. Their hearts beat faster and their faces were tinged in a light shade of red. Looking down, England hid his face from the other, feeling quite embarrassed. He was waiting for the teasing to happen; the taunts and blackmail. The hatred that he usually received from many countries. But he would protect himself like he always did. He was independent and not weak.

"England," America started. The one who was called continued to stare at his feet. God how he hated feeling this way! It was embarrassing. He was once the Great British Empire! And he was letting this younger, selfish nation make him feel defeated and embarrassed. Tearing down the harden shell that he worked on for so many years after the war; exposing his soft side. England didn't like that one bit; he didn't want to get hurt again. But he just couldn't look up. The guy should be laughing at him for being this way.

Sighing, America continued on, "I know that we argue a lot and it may seem like I hate you. You also probably think this is some joke or trick but... It's not.. I really like you, England."

Slowly looking up, England stared at America in the eyes. They both had each other's saliva on their chins. England wiped it off of his own chin with his sleeve and spoke slowly, "You like me... Like you _like_ like me. In a r-romantic way.." It was more of a statement then a question really.

The other's cheeks flushed and confidence grew in his eyes. "Yeah! I really like you. I've liked you for a really long time!"

Darting his eyes away, England whispered, "I really don't hate you..." God this was still embarrassing but it kinda made him excited and happy yet he still wasn't sure. If this was true, what if America left again? Like he did more than two hundred years ago. No... He shouldn't think that way. 'I need this. I want to be loved. I've been alone for too long. I want... America to love me but I will not be made of a fool if this goes wrong,' he thought sternly, but a hint of a smile appeared. This might work.

America smiled again and exclaimed happily, "I know, you proved it in our kiss!" God, this nation could be so hyper no matter what the situation was. Well, sometimes it left for a bit but would instantly come back up. Maybe it was from all the sugar he consumed, like the milkshakes he drinks or ice cream he eats; could be either one or both. England glanced back at him and mumbled, "Idiot."

"I'm your idiot," America replied with his eyes shining with confidence, cheeks still flushed pink. England's face was also pink too. He looked down slightly at America's chest. His gaze continued on until it stopped at a certain spot on his body. It looked painfully tight. He looked up and a cheeky smirk appeared on his face. He decided that he would help the other out.

America stared at his face, "What? Did I do something stupid?" This made England chuckle and he quickly grabbed America's still clothed hardened length, receiving a gasp. "You always do something stupid, idiot, but it seems like you need some help with this," he replied in a deep and suggestive voice, running his fingers along the top of America's groin which hardened even more. America's eyes widened and he let out short, shallow breathes, "N-no fair. H-how'd you know?"

"It's pretty obvious, America." England's smirk never leaving as he cupped the bulge, receiving another gasp in response. It was entertaining to see the American tremble underneath his touch. Maybe he really did like England if he could get this hard with a few touches from the Brit. Letting out short huffs, America's head slumped, hiding his flushed face from England. It felt amazing, it really did. He used to imagine getting a hand job from the male but he never expected that his fantasies would come true.

Seeing these pleasurable reactions, England pressed his palm harder against America's length, slightly rubbing it as well. It was starting to become to much for the American; he felt like he was going to reach his limit any second. "Sh-shit, England, I th-think I'm going to come," he hissed, pure pleasure flowing through his veins, sweat rolling down his face. As soon as he said those few words, the hand was removed, leaving the dazed American in confusion. Before he knew it, he was pinned against the wall.

Starting to come out of his dazed state, he noticed that his pants and boxers were pulled down revealing his already hardened length. He shivered from the cold air. He also noticed that a certain nation was on his knees and looking up at him with lust in his eyes. America's face heated up as England smirked, "Damn America. I never expected you were this big." Well the American was a little bit bigger then the average size, it kinda surprised the Brit.

America pouted and stuck out his lower lip. "What were you expecting? That I had a small cock? So cruel." England chuckled at the cute, pouting nation and ran a finger gingerly over a thick vein underneath his length. America shivered and moaned silently. "No I suspected that you were over average but not like this. It surprised me."

As England rubbed his inner thighs, America shivered again and whimpered, "Still so cruel and such a tease. Where did you even learn how to do this?"

England smirked, "I was once a pirate, America. I'm experienced." A pirate's life wasn't so innocent when it came to sex, so it was pretty much true. That part of him was starting to appear and it was actually quite arousing. America's cheeks turned a light shade of red and he thought, 'Ah fuck. Now he'll go all pirate shit on me. He needs to get out of the past but- wait shit what is he doing?!' He gasped as England lapped up the precum from the tip of his length then skillfully swirled his tongue around the head. America's head leaned back against the wall and he exhaled short puffs of air, his cheeks still slightly red and his eyes opened in slits.

England was entertained by the little noises that slipped from the American's mouth. The Brit knew that he wasn't as good as he was when he was a pirate, but America made him feel like he was doing a good job at it. Wrapping thin fingers around the base, England slipped the head into his mouth and ran the tip of his tongue through the slit that the precum leaked out from. America watched him with hooded eyes that were glazed over with lust and desperation. Short breathes escaped from his parted lips as saliva trickled down his chin.

This was actually his first time. Well first time receiving a blow job; his previous temporary partners never gave him that kind of luxury or what so ever. Maybe it was because he dated way too many arrogant college students. 'I need a better sense of judgement when it comes to who I date.'

Maybe England wanted to be his partner. The thought thrilled America. Decades after gaining independence, he had harbored a huge crush for the Brit, fantasizing about him being his partner. He let out a desperate groan as he watched England's lips stretch around his length; he wanted more. No, he needed more. Stretching his hand out, America threaded his fingers through England's messy hair and squeezed the soft blond strands, making him take in more.

A whimper escaped from America's throat as England started to bob his head and sucked rather hard. He squeezed the strands of hair that were captured in his fingers. Meanwhile his other hand was in his mouth as he bit down on it to stop himself from making any embarrassing noise. England noticed this; he wanted to hear those adorable little noises from him. So he bobbed his head faster and sucked harder. 'Come on, idiot. Moan for me.'

This time America let out unintentional moans that filled the elevator. He tried to buck his hips but England held them down with his hand.

As America was about to reach his climax, he suddenly pushed England way, his length slipping out of the Brit's mouth. He didn't want to come into his mouth. That would be terribly embarrassing. A few seconds later, he cried out as he came, his cum flying out and hit England's face. Oh god, now that was embarrassing. After his high was almost gone, he slowly opened his eyes to see his cum all over England's confused face.

"Oh god, England, dude I'm so sorry," he panted concernedly, lowering himself down to match the other's height. He gently wiped the other's face. England's face still looked baffled. He didn't know what just happened. Did he screw up somehow? He was sure that America was enjoying it. As he started to come out of his confused state, he watched America's concerned eyes while his face was being cleaned of the sticky substance. He coughed and pulled away, heaving himself up onto his feet. He shyly looked away to hide his flushed face. "I-it's okay... I shouldn't have done that..."

America frowned. Why did he have to change his moods so quickly? 'It's like he's bipolar or something...' Yet he felt like it was unfair that he only got pleasured. America took notice of how tight England's pants were. He must be miserable, not getting his own relief. Heroes don't leave people in need of help, so he should help England out as well.

"Let's just pretend that this never happened and forget about it," a British voice mumbled. No... It's not going to be left alone. It was now or never.

A sudden hand wrapped its fingers around England's wrist and pushing him down to the ground, onto his back. Slowly opening his eyes, he noticed that America was straddling him, his face looking serious.

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**Yes, thrusted is a word. Teh, I'm being a cock block right now. Also, yay for descriptiveness! Remember to review, I'd appreciate it!**


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